The Saga of Shieldbreaker and Swordbreaker
Once, can't quite remember the time, there was a hobgoblin. He was damn near the biggest hobgoblin that ever lived. Had the arms of an ogre, some said. They did seem a little funny looking on him, but noone said it to his face. Now, he was rare for more than just this. He was the only hobgoblin who fought with a two-handed sword. And this thing was freaking massive. Rumour had it that he beat a frost giant in an arm-wrestling contest, so the giant gave up his shortsword as the prize. (tee hee)
Now, his big thing was, his sword was so massive, and he could swing it so damn hard, that he would cleave right through any wooden shield - which was all of them, come to think of it. They didn't think anyone would need a metal shield until after he came around. So, hobgoblins being the power-proud people they were, were more than pleased when the young upstart challenged his clan leader for dominance. Now, this was a grizzled veteran, but not the smartest, because he didn't heed anyone's word that the young fool really could tear through shields. It was a disappointing victory, started with a parry, then two quick blows to first rip the shield apart, then take the shieldarm off. To add insult to injury, he turned his back, walked away, and let his adversary bleed to death. To his credit, the former leader not only didn't cry out in pain, he stood back up, cleaned his sword, and sheathed it. Then stood there for the better part of an hour before he slumped over dead. (thats what we call rolling a 20 on a fortitude check)
This hobgoblin brought with him a new era. He was the most fearsome leader to ever reign supreme. He is the reason the kingdom of Hob solidified, built the fortress, and became a threat. He's also the reason they'll drop everything to challenge each other to a duel to the death to keep their honour, but thats another story. His most prominent addition to the race was their few but fierce. Giants compared to the other hobgoblins, only a select few are mighty enough to wield the hobgoblin version of the greatsword.
Anyways, in one of his marauding assaults to the south, the king known as Shieldbreaker came across a single orc. This wasn't any ordinary orc, mind you. Not that he was any bigger, or tougher looking, or anything of the sort. The only thing remarkable was that there weren't many one-eyed orcs in the world. Didn't even carry a proper spear; his crude weapon was nothing more than a two foot long rod of iron pounded to a point at one end.
Uttering a horrible slur of growls, the orc began frothing at the mouth. Dropping into a ready crouch, its frenzied eyes darted this way and that as the Hobgoblins circled around him. Feeling the task below him, Shieldbreaker watched as his troops dove in for the kill. All his battles could never prepare him for what happened that day. The first to attack died before his sword could fall. The orc flew faster than an elf's arrow, snapping around and driving his spear through the unprepared hobgoblin's eye. The others took their cue, attacking the orc's freshly exposed back. No matter how fast they swung their swords, no blade drank of orc blood that day. As if posessed by an evil force, the spear twisted faster than their eyes could follow. Parrying one swing after another, it found the slightest hole in armour to bury itself in Hobgoblin flesh.
He was only ten feet away, but Shieldbreaker couldn't save a single one of his men. Before he could even unsheath his massive sword, he watched in horror as the orc planted its foot firmly on the last standig soldiers chest to pull his crude - but effective - weapon free. Licking the blood from its fingers, the orc slowly turned to Shieldbreaker as his last victim sank slowly to the ground. They faced off, and with all the patience of an avalanche, Shieldbreaker went for revenge. The fight lasted mere seconds, but it was a sight to watch. The volley of swordstrokes was brushed aside one by one with all the expertise of a hand guided by no mere mortal, and time and again the orc searched for an opening, only to be met by armour. Then, in a blink of an eye, the fight ended. Driving forward with such incredible force, the Hobgoblin drove his opponent to the ground. Seeing the inevitable, he went for the kill. In a furious overhand chop, he used every ounce of energy to tear the orcs head in two. And, in a last ditch effort, the orc gripped his crude weapon in two hands, and closed his eye.
The followers of the orc god are His entire race, but only a select few are granted His intervention. The iron spear withstood the blow; the sword seemed no more than a blade of grass as the spear's shaft was imbedded forever in the steel.
Neither knew what to think of this turn of events. And neither wanted to let go of their weapon. Legend has it, when they were found, they were both holding their weapons, the mighty king collapsed on the (un)holy man. What truly happened noone knows, but Legend says they starved to death.
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